So I promised my friend a oneshot two years ago.

This is it! WOO YEAH! I'M SO PUNCTUAL!

...anyways.

A SasorixGaara friendship fic. It's about hair, along with other random crap.

Please review and tell me if you loved it or hated it so much that you vomited ten times in a row. :)


Cutting with Style

The bell rang shrilly throughout the classrooms, dismissing the students to go home.

Sasori let out a sigh of relief as he stuffed his textbooks into his black-and-white checkered messenger bag. He stood up and followed behind the group of blonde girls giggling as they exited the Physics room.

Even though it was the weekend, he knew that a number of essays and homework assignments were waiting for him, ready to jump out of his bag and strangle him with a huge amount of stress. Oh, the joy of being a junior!

It made him want to jump off of a neon green bridge into a bright pink river filled with blueberry muffins.

Suddenly, heard a girl shriek loudly, "HOW DARE YOU REJECT ME!?"

He turned his head slightly and saw his friend's little brother cross his arms in defiance, obviously not impressed by the girl's reaction.

Sasuke merely replied, "It's not a big deal. You're not going to die."

"But Sasuke… don't you know that I love you? I spend every night dreaming of hula hooping with you! You just crushed my dark blue heart and slammed it on the ground!" she cried, tears streaming down her pale face. "And then you danced around it, blew it up, and ate it! YOU ATE IT! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CALORIES ARE IN HUMAN HEARTS?"

"Ino, chill out."

"NO! I REFUSE! I WILL NEVER GIVE UP UNTIL YOU BEAR MY CHILDREN AND GO TO A LINDSEY LOHAN CONCERT WITH ME!"

The girl stomped away, clutching her dark brown Coach purse.

Sasori calmly sauntered over to Sasuke and stated, "You're quite popular with the ladies."

Sasuke shrugged.

"Anyways, your hair is dying. You've been straightening it every morning, haven't you? And it seems like you slopped on a pound of hair gel," Sasori scoffed. "Have I taught you nothing?"

"It's not like Itachi's hair is any better," he replied, glaring at the redhead. "He dyes it dark gray every month and straightens every strand until it's bone-dry."

"Psh. You dye it midnight blue, don't you? Like every month?"

"…well, yeah."

Sasori grinned and shook his head. "Stop by my salon and I'll fix it up for you- maybe give your hair some texture and touch your roots up. The roots look too black."

"Whatever, fag," Sasuke mumbled and walked away.

With that said Sasori happily departed the school and jumped into his black 2009 Mercedes-Benz SLR. It was worth about $500,000 but he didn't need to worry about that. After all, his father was the ambassador of Ireland. The house, the cars, and everything else were pretty much provided by the government.

It also helped that his mother was a porn star and starred in pretty much every X-rated videos that were passed around through the hands of horny Mexican men.

However, his father still believed in 'building character', so he was forced to work at a part-time job, which was at a hairstyling salon.

Not as bad as scooping ice cream or dealing with stingy customers at a restaurant, but it was still stressful. He could not count the number of twelve year old pre-teen girls who had complained and screamed because he 'cut their hair two millimeters too short'.

He grimaced as he pondered through those bad memories. As he turned into the parking lot of the mall, he peered around for an open parking spot.

He hated parking at the mall. Since it was a Friday, everyone thought that the mall was the coolest place to hang out.

Eventually, he had to park in the very back and walk, dodging cars along the way as he made his way to the building.

The Memorial City Mall was pretty big. Rumors had it that people even saw Michael Jackson shopping there. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or terrified of that fact.

He entered the bustling Food Court and cringed at the smell of fast food. He believed that a French fry from McDonald's was bound to poison him and cripple him for life.

So anyhow, he wanted to work at Toni & Guy, but changed his mind. There were too many gay guys working there. He didn't want to be raped while he was chopping off someone else's hair.

Weaving his way in between the groups of people, he finally found himself in front of Visible Changes.

Zetsu popped out of nowhere and slapped Sasori's butt.

"You're late!" he yelled.

Although he wasn't the owner of the place, he acted like it. He also felt the need to appear as masculine as possible, taking every opportunity to beat Sasori, whether it was in a hair styling competition or literally beating him up. He had vibrant dark green hair, tan skin, and yellow contacts, making him look like a feral animal. Being bisexual and horny, he sometimes acted like a wildcat, too.

The redhead grimaced and rubbed his rear end.

"Only by like, two minutes. Take a chill pill."

Zetsu beamed at him and stated, "You really want to argue with me? Then meet me in the parking lot after work. I'll take out my whip and-"

Sasori abruptly punched him, sending him flying out the glass window. He wiped his hands and walked over to Martha.

"Who's up next? I'm free," he told her.

Martha, the infamous dumb blond looked flipped through the black binder and replied, "Okay, so there's this guy named… wow, he's totally a terriorist. Oh wait, I think he's like, Persian or something! Anyways, it's like, Gay Rano Sahboku."

"What?" Sasori snatched the binder from her hands and peered at the name, written messily with red ink. "Uh, I believe that is how you pronounce it. I'll get him."

"That's so hot! I'll just scratch his name out. It says that he wants just like, a really short trim today," she informed him.

"No prob."

Sasori immediately went over to where people were waiting and shouted, "GAY! WHERE ARE YOU?"

Everyone but one teenager sitting in the corner burst out in laughter.

The kid stood up and slowly walked up to him. Like Sasori, he had flaming red hair and pale skin, but his style was completely different. Black eyeliner rimmed his green eyes. He wore a black band T-shirt that read 'Killswitch Engage' in dripping red letters. He had black shorts on, and red Converse high tops on his feet. He was obviously another hardcore 'emo' teenager.

Sasori had pretty much a 'happy' clothing style. He wore a sunshine yellow button up with its sleeves rolled up. Black skinny jeans fit his slim legs snugly, but not to the point where the pair of pants strangled his family jewels. He sported white Vans Canvas shoes, squeaky clean and new.

"I'm sorry, is that how you pronounce your name?" Sasori asked, puzzled at the kid's frightening expression. It looked as if he wanted to kill him right then and there.

"…yes, my parents chose to name me after a specific sexual orientation," he hissed.

"That's a yes?"

The kid shook his head and said, "People like you deserve to die."

Sasori took a few steps back and inquired angrily, "What did you just say to me?"

Oh, the look on that boy's face! It was enough to send penguins diving into the mouths of killer whales!

"I said… you deserve to die," he reiterated, gritting his teeth.

"So I should go swallow a bottle of Valium because I pronounced your name wrong? Is that what you're saying?" Sasori replied, indignant.

He didn't reply. He just stood there, shaking and glaring at him.

Realizing that the two weren't making any progress, Sasori took a deep breath and asked calmly, "So dear boy, how do you pronounce your lovely name?"

"It's Gaara- Gaara no Sabaku."

"Great. Now get on the freaking stool so I can cut your hair," Sasori commanded, quickly becoming bored of this whole ordeal.

He obeyed, silently sliding onto the black leather and slouching.

Sasori leaned over and pulled out a comb. He wet it under the dripping sink and brushed Gaara's hair, making sure that he got every strand nice and damp. He took out a pair of small, silver scissors and began snipping away.

The mound of blood red hair on the floor steadily grew.

Before he knew what was happening, it was too late. Gaara, suspecting that something was up, slapped Sasori's nimble fingers away from his head. He stood up and turned around.

He.

Was.

Bald.

AND HE LOVED IT!

Gaara turned to Sasori, tears streaming down his porcelain cheeks.

"How did you know?" he breathed out.

Sasori merely smiled back and placed his hand on the small of Gaara's back.

"Being a redhead ain't dope. I know how you feelin', brutha," he said, turning ghetto.

Gaara took a deep breath and suddenly started speaking in Ebonics also: "Dawg, you so fine- wanna hang at mah crib tonight? Hit up some babes and get pizza?"

"From Pizza Hut? 'Cuz that shit is the bomb!" Sasori bellowed. Although he hated McDonald's, he loved all the other fast food chain establishments.

"Hell yeah! We be orderin' some Kentucky Fried Chicken, too!Dinner ain't the same without them fried birdies!" Gaara added, his eyes lighting up at the thought of consuming grease covered animals.

The two men gave each other high fives and did some kind of secret gangster handshake which involved slapping each others' butts and rubbing each others' hairy chests.

Then they became best friends and lived happily ever after.

The end.


I think that was one of the stupidest fanfics I've ever written.

Which is saying a lot.

But I am exceedingly proud of myself for finally fulfilling my friend's request.

I AM THE BOMB! MUAHAHAHA!

Once again, please review. It will be much appreciated.